


your life is free

by ravenreyamidala



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Endgame Polyamory, Everyone Except Steve is a Little Bit More Terrible than in Canon, Happy Ending, Incest Between Adopted Siblings, Infidelity, Loosely based off of Hamilton, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Multi, Sibling Incest, Soap Opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 01:09:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21007202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenreyamidala/pseuds/ravenreyamidala
Summary: James Buchanan Barnes sees Tony Stark first. He knows this like he knows the color of Steve’s eyes (the most perfect blue in existence), like the sound of his mother’s voice.(alternatively: A Hamilton AU wherein Bucky is Angelica, Tony is Alexander, and Steve is Eliza.)





	your life is free

**Author's Note:**

> mind the tags!
> 
> why yes this is basically the same story as one of my check please fics with the names changed and some of the details altered to make things flow better with this dynamic. call it a social experiment.

James Buchanan Barnes sees Tony Stark first. He knows this like he knows the color of Steve’s eyes (the most perfect blue in existence), like the sound of his mother’s voice. They lock gazes at the same moment, and Bucky swears he feels their hearts beat in tandem for a perfect two, maybe three beats. He doesn’t remember gliding across the room, but he remembers the press of Tony’s lips on the back of his hand, the way Tony’s gaze appraises him quickly before Tony’s pupils dilate, the feeling of his own teeth coyly digging into his painted bottom lip. 

“You are the most interesting person I’ve seen all evening,” Tony greets, holding Bucky’s hand a beat too long before pulling away. 

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted on behalf of all the lovely people here tonight,” Bucky snips back, keeping his smile almost perfectly pleasant. 

Too perfect, and Bucky knows he comes off as a jerk. A tilt of his head to the left, the barest hint of teeth, little inconsistencies that keep him from competing with his best friend. He catches sight of Steve for a scant moment before the crowd swallows him up again, and Bucky’s mask falters for just a brief second, but it’s enough for Tony to catch. 

“Whoever has you reacting like that has got to be interesting, you’re right,” Tony muses but doesn’t move his eyes from Bucky’s face. 

Bucky finds himself blushing under the intensity of Tony’s gaze, unused to being the center of attention. Tony reaches up and brushes the back of his fingers against Bucky’s warm cheek. 

“You strike me as someone who has never been satisfied,” Tony purrs, a secret held between the two of them. 

“You’re awfully presumptive for someone I’ve just met,” Bucky retorts, but doesn’t move away from Tony’s barely-there touch. 

“You’re like me,” Tony says raptly, looking up at Bucky like he’s the most wonderful thing Tony’s ever seen, and Bucky feels the warmth from the compliment all over his body. “I’m never satisfied.” 

“Is that right?” Bucky murmurs, fighting the temptation to put his mouth around the thumb that’s a little too close to his lips for polite company. 

“I’ve never been satisfied,” Tony continues, voice deepening. 

Someone bumps into Bucky, and Tony’s hand drops. Suddenly, Bucky remembers where he is, and how he’s supposed to behave. 

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes,” Bucky introduces, noticing how Tony doesn’t react to his last name. 

“Tony Stark,” Tony says, eyes still on Bucky. 

“Where’s your family from?” Bucky asks, since he hasn’t heard of any prominent Starks. 

“Unimportant, but I know you’ll be hearing my name soon enough,” Tony brags. 

“I don’t intend to visit a brothel anytime soon,” Bucky says so blithely that it takes Tony, with his razor-sharp wit, a second to realize the joke. 

Bucky would savor the bark of laughter from his would-be suitor, but the crowd parts, and he catches sight of Steve again. Steve, his best friend, his brother, the one person in the world Bucky loves more than anything else. Steve, sweet and trusting and kind. Steve, moon-eyed over Tony Stark, who knew Bucky’s name before he introduced himself. Tony Stark, who has a touch like velvet and a smile like a shark’s. Bucky knows this like he knows his own mind: Tony Stark will never be satisfied, and Bucky has spent his whole life not being enough. 

So he introduces Tony to Steve, and keeps a perfectly pleasant smile plastered on his face through the rest of the party and then the wedding and the subsequent reception and the best man’s speech that he gives. 

And he hopes, despite everything he knows, despite the fact that he sized Tony up in those two, maybe three minutes, despite knowing exactly who Tony is because he can recognize himself in another person, that Steve will be happy as Tony’s husband. 

* * *

The Barnes family took Steve in after he was abandoned as a newborn. Winifred had just delivered her third stillborn child and was still lactating, and there was a concern that premature, sickly Steve would perish before a wet nurse could be arranged. So Steve was fostered by James and Winifred Barnes, who decided they wanted to adopt the baby when the orphanage finally got around to processing Steve’s paperwork. 

It was a bit of a surprise when Winifred became pregnant a scant few months after Steve’s arrival, and even more wonderful when the baby was born in the August of the year after Steve’s birth, quiet to be sure, but breathing quite heartily. 

Bucky can’t remember a time when he didn’t love Steve, can’t remember a time without his big brother. But he knows how much easier things have been for him, since Bucky is stronger and healthier and more charming than Steve is. Knows how ecstatic Steve was when Tony Stark chose him over his little brother. As far as Steve knows anyway. 

So he is feeling rather guilty, lying on his back, staring up at the face of his brother’s husband as Tony gently but mercilessly fucks into him. And then Tony starts talking, and Bucky feels both guiltier and more aroused. He closes his eyes. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at my husband, my dearest brother-in-law,” Tony breathes into Bucky’s ear, before nipping at his earlobe, which in turn makes Bucky gasp. 

So this isn’t necessarily the first time Bucky’s been in this bed or even in this position, although Tony usually prefers to ride Bucky’s dick. 

“I know that’s why you’re closing your eyes,” Tony murmurs, before savagely worrying Bucky’s nipples with his sharp teeth. 

“You’re thinking about your brother, hmm?” Tony purrs, pushing into Bucky so slowly, his girth pushing incessantly against Bucky’s slick, clenching walls. “Thinking about him fucking you in this bed, in our marriage bed, instead of me.” 

Bucky just moans, reaching for his achingly hard dick, but Tony just grabs both his wrists and pins them above Bucky’s head. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,” Tony continues, leaning down to ravage Bucky’s mouth, all teeth and fierce tongue, pushing into Bucky’s slack, open mouth with all the cruelty usually reserved for Bucky’s ass. 

“I already know,” Tony says smugly. “This is how he fucks me, you know? All sweet and slow and lovely.” 

Tony punctuates that last word with a long drag of his dick against Bucky’s prostate, but it’s the words that have Bucky tipping over the edge, coming all over his chest and Tony’s, and then Tony’s filling him up. 

And there’s the moment Bucky was waiting for, when Tony is almost sated and a little sleepy. He always snuggles into Bucky a bit, and kisses Bucky so sweetly it makes his teeth ache. Then Tony falls asleep, and Bucky’s left to stare up at the ceiling for a bit. 

The guilt is still there, but it’s dampened by the earth-shaking orgasms. Bucky’s helpless to resist the siren call of their mutual satisfaction. 

* * *

“You punk, it is so good to see you! It’s been so long, you should visit us more often,” Steve greets, pulling Bucky into a hug. 

Bucky is hyper-aware of every bit of skin that’s touching Steve’s skin, but he sinks into the embrace anyway, knowing that he’s flirting with danger but not caring. 

Steve pulls back first, like always, but he drops a kiss onto the crown of Bucky’s head, which is unusual. 

At least, that’s what Bucky thinks Steve is doing until Steve opens his mouth. 

“You smell like Tony,” Steve says, his beautiful face scrunching up in confusion. 

Bucky opens his mouth and finds himself at a loss for words, a situation so rare it would have him gaping like a fish if Tony didn’t choose that moment to swoop in with an answer to Steve’s unspoken question. 

“Last time he was here, he said he liked the soap in our bathroom, so I sent him some for his birthday,” Tony says smoothly, before putting his hands on Steve’s waist, just under his shirt, and leaning up for a kiss that Steve’s already bending down to give him. 

“I missed you,” Steve murmurs into the space between their lips after Tony pulls away, and Bucky has to avert his eyes. 

“It’s only been two minutes, babe,” Tony laughs, before leaning in for another kiss. 

“Still in the honeymoon phase, I see,” Bucky snarks, maneuvering around them to get into the dining room. 

Tony breaks away from the embrace to stick his tongue out at Bucky, who valiantly holds back a blush as he remembers precisely what Tony was doing with that appendage only a few hours ago, while Steve was at work. 

“You’re just jealous because you’re single,” Tony teases, keeping his gaze on Bucky a beat too long before turning back to Steve, who looks at Tony with all the tenderness of the softest cotton. 

“When are you going to find someone like Tony?” Steve wonders, draping an arm around Tony’s shoulders as they walk to the dining table. 

_ I have _ , Bucky thinks, and it’s only Tony’s warning look that has him realizing he said that out loud. 

“Oh really? Why is this the first I’m hearing of him?” Steve wonders, raising an eyebrow as if to say  _ Gotcha _ . 

_ I’m fucking your husband _ , Bucky thinks, but doesn’t say, taking a sip of water from his glass on the already-set table. 

“Ah, a fling then,” Steve deduces, before turning to Tony to explain. “Bucky’s had a lot of flings, it drives Ma and Pop absolutely mad, but in the end, as long as Bucky is happy, it is fine.” 

“And because you argue my case so well,” Bucky adds. 

“And because I argue Bucky’s case so well, this is true,” Steve agrees. 

“I married such a talented barrister,” Tony sighs, putting his hand on top of Steve’s where it rests on the table. “How did I get so lucky?” 

“I think I should be the one asking myself that question,” Steve says, before turning to Bucky. “Did Tony tell you about his latest accomplishment?” 

Bucky readies himself for another dinner full of Steve gushing about how talented and intelligent Tony is, but Tony strokes Steve’s hand once, and Steve immediately quiets. 

“Actually, I have some news I wanted to share with you Steve, and since Bucky’s here, I might as well tell him too, since I know you will tell him as soon as possible anyway,” Tony says. 

“News, what’s this?” Steve asks, looking intently at Tony. 

“I’m pregnant!” Tony blurts out, the smile on his face bright enough to light a thousand candles. 

His announcement is followed by a silence thick enough to use as a comforter. Steve pales so suddenly that Bucky is worried about Steve fainting, but then he notices Steve’s tight fist and white knuckles. 

“How is this possible?” Steve wonders, and Tony still hasn’t realized something is wrong, this is immediately clear to Bucky. 

“Well, when a man loves another man very much,” Tony starts, before the penny finally drops, and he trails off, staring at Steve’s hands. 

“I had chickenpox as a teenager,” Steve says tightly, and it has Bucky remembering those awful weeks where the doctor could only shrug her shoulders, how the clothes hung off their mother’s body, the new gray in their father’s hair. 

But Steve survived, with only one side effect and hardly any scars, and they had all made an effort to go to church more often for about a year after that sickness. 

“I’m sterile,” Steve says, but he isn’t finished. “And I’ve told you this before.” 

Bucky feels all the air rush out of his lungs in a moment, and can see the same panic in Tony’s face. 

“Don’t follow me,” Steve spits at Tony, before pushing his chair back roughly and standing up in one abrupt movement, striding out of the room. 

Bucky doesn’t even bother to look between Tony’s face and Steve’s rapidly retreating back before he’s grabbing his jacket. 

* * *

Bucky has barely gotten his key out of the lock and closed the door behind them before Steve’s crowding him against the door, kissing him so fiercely that Bucky feels his knees wobble. Steve’s hands are on his face, he’s  _ kissing _ Steve, and it’s all Bucky has ever wanted, but not like this. 

So for the first time ever, Bucky pulls away first. 

“Steve, no, we can’t do this right now, you’re not thinking straight,” Bucky protests, but Steve’s clearly picking up on how Bucky’s protests lack any real heat, because he leans in for another kiss, raking his big, soft hands through Bucky’s hair. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Steve gasps out before diving back in to suck bruises down the curve of Bucky’s neck. 

Steve’s short enough that Bucky has to bend his knees, and after a second of doing so, Bucky makes an annoyed noise before grabbing Steve by the waist and pulling him up until the angle is better for Bucky. Steve moans, wrapping his legs around Bucky’s waist. 

“You smell just like him,” Steve murmurs against Bucky’s pulse point, before kissing Bucky again. 

Bucky pushes into the kiss, giving it everything he’s got, just in case it’s the last one. Steve pulls away first, taking a moment to soak in Bucky’s face. 

“God, you look positively debauched,” Steve says, pushing impossibly closer to Bucky. “You usually look so perfect, I’ve wanted to be the one to wreck you for so long.” 

There are a thousand other things Bucky should say right now, a thousand different things he should do. 

Instead, he says, “Wreck me, Steve.”

He doesn’t add _I’m_ _yours_, opting to instead desperately kiss Steve, who attempts to melt into Bucky’s body before getting frustrated at the clothes still separating them. 

“Bedroom,” Bucky manages to gasp out. 

Later, when Steve is snoring next to him, and Bucky’s staring at the ceiling, he smiles, before turning over onto his side so the last thing he sees before he closes his face is Steve’s relaxed face. 

* * *

Bucky isn’t surprised when Tony knocks on his door at six the next morning. He spares another glance at Steve’s perfect face before getting out of bed, barely bothering to put on his pants before answering the door. He remembers how hard it was to get Steve out of bed in the mornings; he’s confident that Steve will be in bed for at least another four hours. 

“So he’s here, then,” Tony sneers, taking in Bucky’s appearance and the love-marks littering his body. 

Bucky lifts his chin and crosses his arms. 

“What do you want, Tony?” Bucky asks, pointedly not inviting Tony over the threshold. 

Tony pushes past Bucky anyway, and Bucky lets him, because he can still remember how the candle light illuminated the hunger-shadows of Tony’s face the first time they met, can still remember how the most handsome man in the room would have chosen Bucky first. They settle in the kitchen, and Bucky makes himself a cup of tea, while Tony watches.

“Do you really think that this story has a happy ending?” Tony ponders, and Bucky can see the smirk that accompanies the cruel words without turning around. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Bucky replies, turning around with his tea, leaning against the counter. 

Tony’s seated at the table, and despite the depth of the bags under his eyes, his hair is perfectly coiffed, eyes bright and predatory. Bucky doesn’t shift as he remembers the number of times he woke up to that exact same face. 

“You know that the child I’m carrying is yours,” Tony says bluntly. “The child of my husband’s brother, who he fucked after he found out about my indiscretions.” 

Bucky feels ice-water through his veins, but doesn’t shudder as he takes a measured sip of his tea. Perfectly made, as always. He rolls the tea around his mouth for a moment before deliberately swallowing, smiling widely as Tony finally starts to look a little perturbed. 

“Who do you think he’s going to believe?” Bucky says softly. “His brother, who has always put his happiness over everything else, or his husband, who is a cheating workaholic?” 

“You’re the one who fell into my bed,” Tony says hotly. “You want me, even now, you’re not any better than I am.” 

“I can be better for him,” Bucky promises, sweet as saccharine. “You’ve proven that you can’t.” 

He sets his tea down on the counter as Tony steps up and crowds Bucky. He lets Tony kiss him and even lets Tony decide when to end the kiss. 

Then he feels a pang of worry, as Tony’s eyes gleam with victory. 

“He’s been listening the entire time,” Tony whispers, a vicious mockery of a murmured endearment from a lover, and Bucky can hear Steve’s soft breaths behind him now, the shift of his feet on the wooden floorboards before Steve’s running again. 

Bucky knows better than to follow this time. 

“Why?” Bucky says hollowly, locking his knees so he doesn’t slide onto the floor. 

“Because,” Tony answers, flashing his teeth. “He’s mine. I’m not going to let you take him away from me.” 

“You’re going to destroy us,” Bucky realizes distantly. 

“Quite the opposite, dear Bucky,” Tony promises, and Bucky feels the weight of it in his breast. “You’ll see. It’ll all work out.” 

“Get the fuck out of my sight,” Bucky demands. 

Tony is gone a second later, and Bucky finally sinks to the floor. He waits for the sound of the front door closing, and for the sounds of footsteps past the kitchen window to pass, before dropping his head onto his knees and sobbing.

* * *

Bucky is entertaining guests for dinner when someone knocks on the door. One short, three long. 

“You’re back,” Bucky says joyfully before the door is completely open, uncaring of the snow that billows in with Steve. 

Steve doesn’t say anything, and the reason for that becomes clear when he removes his heavy coat. The gentle rounding of his abdomen-- Bucky sucks in a quick breath. 

“It’s probably yours,” Steve finally says flatly, moving towards the living room. 

Bucky doesn’t look over his shoulder to see if his guests can hear-- he trusts their discretion enough to be comfortable focusing the entirety of his attention on his brother. His pregnant brother. He follows Steve and sits on the edge of the couch opposite Steve’s. 

“Are you keeping it?” Bucky blurts out, before admonishing himself for his clumsiness. 

Steve levels him with a gaze so dry that Bucky feels his resulting blush all the way in the tips of his ears. 

“I can’t be a single parent,” Steve says, and Bucky’s heart sinks. 

“You’re going back to him,” Bucky realizes. 

“I thought I should tell you first,” Steve explains calmly, and Bucky hears the <i> _ You should have told me</i> _ that Steve is too good to say. 

He looks down for a moment and blinks back the tears that threaten to erupt from him, before looking back up at Steve and smiling, almost perfectly pleasant, not too perfect that he seems insincere. 

“I wish you all the happiness in the world,” Bucky says, and he is proud of all the years of practice that means his voice doesn’t wobble, his smile doesn’t falter. 

“I know,” Steve sighs, before getting up. 

Bucky doesn’t follow him, and Steve pauses at the threshold, turning back to look at Bucky. 

“I love you, punk,” Steve says softly, before leaving. 

Bucky takes a deep breath and barely waits for the front door to close before swooping into the dining room, smiling widely for his guests. 

“I apologize for that interruption,” Bucky says smoothly. “Let’s continue our meal. Brock, you were telling me about your daughter.”

* * *

Bucky reads about the birth of his first child in a letter from Steve, who continues to write Bucky despite the lack of a reply. 

Bucky is back in London, a world away from his whole world. He’s far enough away that he won’t be a threat to the new life Tony and Steve are building together. 

He smiles at strangers on the streets, and rolls around with some of them in their sheets. He is the toast of the town, and the months pass in a blur of parties, champagne flutes, and furtive suckjobs in the coatroom. 

Bucky doesn’t expect happiness, but he has a routine, and that’s close enough. Bucky has always excelled with a routine, with a strict set of rules that he can creatively interpret. Every two weeks, like clockwork, he gets a letter from Steve, and he falls into a married man’s bed. 

The two aren’t related. Bucky just knows better than to seek a love that he can keep. Married men are safe. Even if one falls in love with Bucky, the mere suggestion of his spouse’s reaction is enough to get Bucky out of a sticky situation. 

And then one day, instead of a letter, Steve shows up on his doorstep, cradling a bundle wrapped in the blanket Bucky had made and sent months before. 

“Where is your husband?” Bucky says, keeping his eyes steady on Steve’s ear and not on those dangerous eyes or the tiny nose sticking out of the blankets. 

“He’s nearby,” Steve says warmly. “Can I come in? It’s almost time for the baby to feed, and your neighbors don’t deserve to be a captive audience to that particular symphony.” 

“I’m surprised you traveled so far with two children so young,” Bucky says dumbly, leading Steve into the living room. 

His brother settles on the most comfortable couch without Bucky’s direction, his uncanny sense for that sort of thing working even here in London. He casts a look around the room, before looking up at Bucky. 

“It has been rather difficult, but they’re darling nonetheless,” Steve answers, before leaning down to kiss his child’s forehead. “Lend me your hands for a moment as I get situated?” 

Steve doesn’t wait for a reply before Bucky is holding the baby. He’s charmed by the curl of their eyelashes, their sweet lips, their perfect nose, Steve’s in miniature. He’s snapped from his daze by the sound of a button against metal, and looks up to catch Steve unbuttoning his shirt. Steve catches his gaze and smiles, no doubt at the uncharacteristic shock on Bucky’s face. 

“You know how babies are fed, Bucky, this shouldn’t be a surprise,” Steve teases, reaching for the baby that Bucky passes over carefully. 

Steve makes sure the baby is latched properly to his bare breast before looking up at Bucky.

“Why are you here?” Bucky asks, arms crossed. 

“Sit down,” Steve says gently, but Bucky remains standing. 

Steve sighs. 

“My brother has always been so stubborn,” Steve tells the baby, who waves a fist. “I hope you don’t get that from him.” 

Bucky can’t even breathe, never mind ask the question. 

“They both have your eyes,” Steve says, not unkindly. “And your smile.” 

“Is that why you’re here?” Bucky wonders, permitting himself to look at the baby. 

“Sit next to me,” Steve demands softly, patting the spot next to him. 

Bucky sits, careful to leave space between them, but his efforts are dashed by Steve pulling him closer before settling his head on Bucky’s shoulder. 

“I miss you,” Steve says. “Come back with us.” 

“What does your husband think of your plan?” Bucky asks bluntly, sitting stiffly. 

“He misses you too, dearest brother,” Steve replies. 

“Then why isn’t he here?” Bucky says pointedly. 

“Because you would throttle him,” Steve says, and Bucky has to concede that point. “And because we all know you can’t say no to me.” 

“So, what, I’m going to be their favorite uncle?” Bucky says. 

Steve sighs, a quiet huff Bucky can feel through the fabric of his shirt, before sitting up and moving the baby to his other breast. The silence stretches between them as Bucky patiently waits for an answer. 

“We want you back in our lives, Bucky,” Steve says finally. “Back in our house, back in our hearts, back in our bed.” 

“I won’t be the cause of your unhappiness again, Steve,” Bucky says, mouth going dry, heart pounding. 

“I know,” Steve murmurs, pressing a kiss on Bucky’s cheek that’s just slightly too close to his mouth. “I know because I refuse to be the cause of your discontent any longer, brother. Come back with us. Come raise our children with us.” 

“Are you sure?” Bucky asks again, bracing himself. 

“Come home, Bucky.” 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!


End file.
